


But a Little While Longer

by HASA_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: General, War of the Ring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-14
Updated: 2015-04-14
Packaged: 2018-03-22 22:33:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3746120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HASA_Archivist/pseuds/HASA_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Book-Verse. (minor alterations to text: the rephrasing of some sentences and the removal of Frodo's lines.) <br/>Aragorn conjures up a fond memory at the hill of Cerin Amroth in Lorien.</p>
            </blockquote>





	But a Little While Longer

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the HASA Transition Team: This story was originally archived at [HASA](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Henneth_Ann%C3%BBn_Story_Archive), which closed in February 2015. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2015. We posted announcements about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact The HASA Transition Team using the e-mail address on the [HASA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hasa/profile).

At the hill’s foot stood Aragorn, standing still and silent as a tree; but in his hand was a small golden bloom of elanor, and a light was in his eyes. He was wrapped in some fair memory; and anyone who looked at him knew that he beheld things as they once had been in this same place. For the grim years were removed from the face of Aragorn, and he seemed clothed in white, a young lord tall and fair as he gazed at the grassy slopes of Cerith Amroth, speckled with tiny golden flowers and the leafless white trees beyond.

And it seemed to him, that as he stared out at this lovely place before him, it was transformed. Slowly the stark trees nearest to him blended into one slender pillar of snowy white. The bark appeared as flowing silken robes and the roots became the pale slender feet of a woman. He raised his gaze to see two azure eyes rimmed in a crown of dark lashes peering out of a beautiful round face. Waves of thick dark hair framed her lovely face and came to rest upon her cloaked shoulders. Her bow shaped lips were bent in a curious little smile upon her softly rounded chin.

A small golden flower was tucked casually behind one delicately pointed ear, hidden by her midnight tresses. She was lovelier than the day he had first laid eyes upon her, if such a thing were possible. He softly spoke words in the elvish tongue to the one unseen by any other.

“Arwen vanimelda namarie!” he sighed.

And as he drew breath, a swift yet gentle wind blew from the north, rustling the grasses and trees, carrying away the vision of his love as soft petals upon the breeze. The last of which to fade from his mind was her tender smile as it dissipated into nothingness and again he found himself alone on the hillside. He glanced down at the blossom tucked lightly between his thumb and fore finger, and smiled.

“It is but a little while,” he told himself with a little shake of his head,

“But a little while longer.”

And he left the hill of Cerin Amroth and came there never again as living man.


End file.
